Nightbeat
by Gimme-Chan
Summary: A series of short drabbles following how an Ops mech comes into the picture and...interferes in the relationship between Jazz and Prowl. JxP
1. Introductions

I'm cleaning out my folder! Getting these short drabbles posted!  
>These are like the description says, snapshots of what transpires when another Ops mech comes into the picture and...disrupts Prowl and Jazzs relationship.<p>

Oh, and I just realised there actually IS a Transformer already named Nightbeat...this is not him! LOL, this Nightbeat is OC.

Warnings: None

:inner comm speak:  
><em>thoughts<em>

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><p><strong>Nightbeat<strong>

**Introductions**

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><p>:Hey Prowler, don't ya think it's time ya put down the reports an' had yourself some energon? Gittin' awful late.:<p>

Prowl's hand stopped, writing cut off mid-word as he checked the time. Jazz was indeed correct. It was late and it had been nearly a whole cycle since his last cube of energon.

:Indeed you are correct, Jazz, I think it is time I pause and refuel. And need I remind you, again, Jazz, my name is Prowl. Prowl. Not Prowler.:

_I will break him of this nickname habit. Its senseless. _

:Funny. Ah called ya Prowler quite a bit th' other night an' ya didn't seem ta feel the need to correct me then. 'Course, given the state of overloadin' ecstasy Ah had ya in, and with all that delicious moanin' you were doin', Ah'm not surprised ya didn't hear me. Bein' so distracted an' all.:

Prowl stared straight ahead, a horrified expression on his face.

:Jazz! This is not a private comm line, anyone could be listening!:

:Well then, maybe ya need ta get on down here to the commons room and talk ta me mech ta mech, that way Ah won't say such things over the comm line.:

Prowl sighed.

:I'll be there shortly. Try to contain yourself till then.:

:Ah can only try, Prowler:

_Prowl. Prowl, Prowl, Prowl, Prowl, Prowl. Not Prowler._

Prowl shook his head as he stood and headed for the door, knowing at this point Jazz was probably sitting comfortably in the commons room, grin stretching audio to audio.

Prowl walked into the commons room and located Jazz…not sitting but leaning against the wall next to a mech he'd never seen before. Prowl frowned before remembering that a team of Ops mechs would be staying and training under Jazz for a while. They wouldn't be mingling among the rest of the crew too much, Special Ops tended to stay in the Ops wing. Only coming to blend with the rest of the base during such occasions as parties. A small handful did stray from the wing more often, like Mirage or Jazz or Bumblebee, but most stayed hidden away behind closed doors.

Prowl caught Jazz's gaze and Jazz smiled at him as he straightened and waved him over.

"Prowl, hey! What're you doing here!"

Prowl bit back a retort, it was no surprise he was here…Jazz knew he was on his way, he'd commed him.

Jazz nodded to the mech by his side.

"Prowl, Ah wanted ta introduce ya. Prowl, this is Nightbeat. Team Leader of the Special Ops unit at the Gamma 5 base."

Prowl gave a polite nod of acknowledgement and shook Nightbeat's hand when he extended it.

The taller, sleek looking dark silver and black mech grinned,

"Its an honor to meet you, Sir. And a privilege, I might add, to be allowed admittance in to your base. As well as the opportunity to study under Jazz."

Prowl frowned a touch,

"This is not my base, Nightbeat, but Prime's."

Nightbeat straightened and directed a dazzling grin at Prowl,

"Ah! But our Prime would be seriously lacking without his all knowing and hard working Second in Command."

Prowl frowned further and was about to point out just how inaccurate that statement was, side from the hard working Second in Command part, when Jazz interjected,

"Hehehe, Night, yer not goin' ta get any extra points tryin' ta charm Prowl here. He don' charm. Now come on, lets git back to the Ops wing, we got trainin' ta do."

Nightbeat looked back at Jazz, grinning, elated,

"Heh, yes, Sir!"

And the taller mech stepped quickly to Jazz's side as they turned and left the commons room.

****Authors notes***

Yeah, Nightbeat is a series of short drabbles concerning Prowl and Jazzs relationship and how Nightbeat...well, effects it. :)  
>Reading and reviewing is always loved!<p> 


	2. Dance

On going snapshots/drabbles of Jazz/Prowl and Nightbeat

Warnings: None

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><p><strong>Dance<strong>

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><p>Prowl sat at a table, alone. A cube of untouched high grade in his hand. All his attention was focused on the dance floor. Well, on Jazz, who was out on the dance floor having a great time. Prowl didn't mind, he always enjoyed watching Jazz dance. It...made him happy.<p>

Prowl gave a faint start, jerked from his happy daze, when a mech suddenly sat down next to him. Surprise gave way and melting into irritation when he saw who it was.

Nightbeat.

The mech looked at Prowl then out to the dance floor, at Jazz. Prowl's gaze followed. Out of the corner of his optics Prowl could see Nightbeat smile. A slow, pleased smile as he watched Jazz dance for a moment.

"He's quite the mech, isn't he?" Prowl simply gave a nod as Nightbeat went on, "He's got amazing skills and abilities."

Prowl picked up his high grade and actually drank some.

"Indeed he has."

Nightbeat turned and fixed those beautiful, unusual golden optics on him.

"He speaks very fondly of you."

Prowl gave an absent nod, working to keep his gaze on the dance floor, on Jazz.

"Jazz rarely speaks ill of any mech."

Nightbeat's smile grew a touch as he nodded and looked out again at Jazz. Two pair of optics glued to the visored mech as he danced with abandon to the music. A few quiet moments passed in silence before Nightbeat turned to Prowl once more.

"I understand the two of you are...in a relationship."

Prowl looked down into his high grade.

"Yes. We are."

Nightbeat nodded, looking back out on the dance floor.

"Jazz and I were talking earlier. He was telling me how you two got together just after you were transferred here to be the Head Tactician."

Prowl nodded, again feeling irritation creeping through him. While commenting and acknowledging the relationship between himself and Jazz, the mech didn't even have the decency to hide who he was watching. Like Nightbeat didn't even care...

Prowl gripped his cube of high grade tighter.

"That's true."

Nightbeat turned and suddenly leaned in close to Prowl, uncomfortably close.

"So, tell me, Prowl, just what did you do to snag Jazz?"

Prowl finally looked at Nightbeat, cold blue optics meeting soft golden ones, and frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Nightbeat shifted closer to him and Prowl tensed.

"What did you do to snag Jazz? You must have said or done something to show your interest. What was it? What did you do?"

It wasn't a question Prowl had been expecting. It wasn't even a normal question. The question was strange. Nightbeat was obviously fishing for something, some piece of information. Prowl wasn't sure how to answer. Especially since, in reality, Jazz had pursued him.

Overall, Prowl didn't think it was any of Nightbeat's business what transpired or had transpired between himself and Jazz. Given Nightbeat's all too obvious interest in Jazz, Prowl wasn't about to give the mech tips on how to draw Jazz even closer to him. Jazz and Nightbeat seemed uncomfortable close enough as it was.

Prowl was saved, however, from forming any answer when Jazz suddenly appeared and leaned on the table.

"Hey! Ah'm in need of a' dance partner! Night, my mech, come an' join me on the dance floor!"

Nightbeat swung around, a grin lighting up his face, as he immediately stood. Eager, so very eager.

"I'd love to, Jazz, lead the way!"

The two turned toward the dance floor, leaving Prowl to himself, alone, once again. Watching Jazz walk away, Prowl suddenly felt rushed by an insane urge to call out and offer to dance with Jazz himself. Forgetting, momentarily, he had no grace or rhythm or experience dancing.

Prowl remained silent and watched the two as they weaved their way through the crowd till they got near the center and began dancing with each other. He watched the twin grins light up their faces as they moved, gracefully, almost mirroring each other. Perfect unison. And Prowl hated to admit it but they looked good together.

Real good.

Prowl shoved his cube of high grade aside and stood. He'd had enough. Of everything. He trusted Jazz and allowing doubt to take root because of his own insecurities would only lead to disaster. He was better than that. THEY were better than that.

Prowl left, quickly and quietly. Failing to notice the pair of optics that followed his every move, watching him from the dance floor until he was out of sight.

****Authors notes***  
>Like I said, Nightbeat WILL effect the relationship :)<br>Reading and reviewing is always loved!


	3. Unfocused

Thank you all for reading and review and faving!

Another quick drabble

Warnings: Mech on Mech, hinted dub-con?

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><p><strong>Nightbeat<strong>

**Unfocused**

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><p>Cooling fans whirled to life in a desperate attempt to dissipate the steadily building heat.<p>

His intakes were ragged, harsh, the sound grating in his own audios. Sounding far too loud for the quiet of the room. And yet, every harsh intake, every breathless pant was like music to the other. The sound spurring him on, encouraging him in a way words never could.

Nightbeat nuzzled against his neck, nipping once more before tearing his mouth away, smirking in satisfaction at the shiver that ran through his body, pinned as he was between the taller mech and the wall. Something like a purr emanating from Nightbeat's throat, lengthening out, pitching to a low lustful moan.

Dark hands stroked down his chest plates, caressing, exploring. Fingers tracing seams with just enough pressure to awaken senors. Tease them. Making him tense and relax in turns as pleasure rolled outward from roaming finger tips.

He sighed, letting his head fall back. Optics dimming. Palms pressed flat against the wall, fingers splayed as though he could clutch at the wall for support.

Nightbeat dipped close, lips exploring the space between his neck and shoulder. Hands constantly moving, building, stroking the heat that was spreading through him.

"That feel good?"

The words rumbled against him and he could hear Nightbeat's smile behind them. He didn't need to answer the question. Just like Nightbeat didn't really need to ask it.

With a chuckle, lips slid further down his chest plate. A slick glossa darting out here and there, tasting, causing him to shiver. Nightbeat's frame lowered, dropping himself to one knee, as his mouth continued to explore. Hands smoothing down abdominal plating, fingers kneading.

He needed to stop this.

Focus.

"N-Nightbeat…need...st-stop…"

A sudden gasp escaped his throat as dentea nibbled along hip plating accompanied by a rich moan as Nightbeat stroked his hands slowly down both thighs. His legs wobbled at the touch, knee joints threatening to buckle, sensation blocking coherent thought. Clouding right and wrong.

"I will."

Dark hands slid back up to grip his hips, pinning them to the wall. He felt Nightbeat's hot breath skim over his interface hatch a moment before his lips feathered across it. Nightbeat leaned in, lips pressing a firm kiss against the panel. He squirmed in the mech's grasp, choking back a whimper.

His hands reached out to clutch at Nightbeat's dark helm. Finding he had neither the strength to push the mech away nor draw him closer.

"I'll stop."

Those lips against his interface panel curled into a grin just before Nightbeat tilted his helm and gave the smooth heated surface a long slow lavish lick, "When you really mean it."

******Authors Notes******

Naughty Nightbeat is naughty. And, yes, its very vague as to who he got his hands on, on purpose! LOL, take a guess! Jazz? Prowl? Prowl? Jazz? XD

Reading and reviewing is always appreciated.


	4. Lonely

Yay! Update! My muses are sloooooooooooowly coming back to life. :)

:inner link speak:  
><em>thoughts<em>

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

**Lonely**

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><p>Leaning against the tactical room's control console, Prowl could already tell this was going to be a long, long cycle. Optimus, in his wisdom, had thought it would be a good idea for Nightbeat to receive some tactical training. And from who better than Prowl himself. Putting his personal distaste for the mech aside, Prowl had to agree with Optimus's line of thinking.<p>

They needed to use what recourses they had. The Gamma 5 base had lost two tacticians in the past vorn, causing waits and mistakes while replacements were sought out. Training Nightbeat could help alleviate at least part of that, provide someone the base could fall back on should the situation repeat itself.

A knock on the door drew Prowl's attention as a comm line signaled him.

:It's Nightbeat, Sir. Reporting for my training.:

Nightbeat was early. Which was usual for an Ops mech. Jazz always arrived late to meetings or training or, well, anything in general. Setting a standard, it seemed, as every other Ops mech felt the need to follow his example. It was refreshing to see a change in that. Something that should be encouraged. However, it was Nightbeat, so Prowl had to clamp down on his desire to pay an encouraging compliment. In fact it would have been easier if Nightbeat had arrived late, would have given Prowl a better, more justifiable reason not to like him. As it stood, his currently reasons were admit ably petty. Which irritated him.

Prowl keyed in the entry code and the main door swooshed open. Nightbeat stepped smoothly inside, flashing Prowl a smile as he walked toward the control console, "I hope I'm not late."

Prowl's mouth pressed into a thin line as he looked back down at the control console, typing more instructions in. _You know slagging well your not._

"No, you're on time. Thank you for being punctual." _Frag it!_

Nightbeat came to a stop in front of the console. Prowl gave a quick glance up to see golden optics glowing warmly down at him as Nightbeat watched him, a subtle smile pulling the corners of his mouth up. Prowl focused his attention back on the console. The silence in the room grew…heavy. Prowl generally preferred silence when he was working but this silence felt loud, buzzing. Awkward. It was Nightbeat. That stare…

"I know Jazz has been working hard with you and your team. Do you feel you've benefited much from this experience?" Which…was a stupid question, senseless in just about every way possible. Of course Nightbeat and his team had benefited from Jazz's training but listening to Nightbeat say as much was better than allowing this uncomfortable silence to stretch on.

"Every much so. Jazz has a wealth of invaluable information. The way he thinks, calculates, plans out missions, or simply his unplanned, instinctual moves….I find myself in awe. He's truly gifted in his field. I've enjoyed working under him."

Prowl nodded.

"And I'm sure I'll enjoy working under you, just as much."

Prowl looked up. Blue optics meeting golden ones. The way Nightbeat had said that…it reminded him of Jazz. The way the tone came out, the placement of words. It reminded him of when Jazz would say one thing to him but mean another. It was a game of Jazz's Prowl had never been good at. His thinking was too linear, too straight forward. He was, he had been told, painfully blunt. And he'd been nothing short of surprised when Jazz hadn't been offended nor put off by his bluntness but rather laughed in the face of it.

It was Nightbeat who broke away first, looking down at the console, "Did Jazz ever coach in you in Special Ops?"

"No. No point in training a Praxian. Doorwings inhibit many of the basic maneuvers an Ops mech needs to know."

"True. But if I may say, Sir, you don't come off as an individual who'd let a physical attribute such as doorwings keep you from pursuing a goal."

"Correct. However, doorwings aside, I've neither the mind set nor the desire to pursue Special Ops. My knowledge and talents are far better suited to tactics. Which is why you're here and what we need to start working on."

Nightbeat nodded, "Yes, Sir. Lead the way."

The sets were always easy, load old tactical plans from previous battles and let the student see how they are calculated, put into action, adjusted as new intel came in, and how to spot holes in one's on plans. Nightbeat actually paid attention, which surprised Prowl. He'd been expecting a more….Jazz-like attitude from him.

Jazz had not taken well to tactical training when Prowl first joined the crew, believing he knew all he needed to know about making mission plans from his experiences. He still had that attitude despite being shown otherwise. There were plenty of times that stubbornness had caused friction between them. But that was Jazz. Jazz liked to be stubborn, didn't always matter what he was being stubborn about, when he thought he was right…

But Nightbeat gave him no such fuss. Which made training just a tiny bit more tolerable. Ok, it was better than just 'tolerable', training Nightbeat was actually enjoyable. He listened, took in Prowl's directions and applied the knowledge. It was going well till the hologrid started glitching. The device was admit ably an older piece of technology and was currently on Wheeljack and Perceptor's list of equipment to get replaced.

The only to fix it was a reset switch at the top part of the device. This was were being a Praxian and of a shorter frame (there weren't tall Praxians) did him little credit. He tried to reach the switch, hand braced against the base of the hologrid, stretching up on the tips of his toe plates, and he could just almost reach it.

"Here, let me."

The offer was welcomed but before Prowl could move out of the way, Nightbeat was behind him, pressing close, a hand brushing the inside of a doorwing as he reached up past Prowl, flipping the switch, shutting down the grid. Prowl tensed. That slight brush, the warmth of a frame almost pressing against his back, the soft electrical pulse of systems against his doorwings. Prowl fought the delicious shiver that was trying to crawl through his frame.

He didn't know, Nightbeat didn't know what he was doing. Another disadvantage to be one of three remaining Praxians, all on the same base, mechs from other bases weren't aware of just how sensitive Praxians and their doorwings were. It was often difficult for mechs to understand the sheer amount of information that their sensor panels collected.

Nightbeat flipped the switch again, activating the hologrid, "There." He stepped back, that hand once again brushing against a doorwing, giving Prowl a friendly smile before turning to the hologrid to set up the field as it had been before it glitched.

Prowl stood for a moment, watching Nightbeat, his mind elsewhere. He could remember back when Jazz was trying to convince him that they should do more together, as in, something outside of work. Jazz would use such opportunities to touch him, gentle teases that damn near drove Prowl mad. He gave in to Jazz's insistence completely and confidently believing nothing would come of it. That Jazz would grow bored of him before the night was out. Prowl had to fight back a smile at the memory. It was one of the few times he'd been wrong. And glad he had been.

Jazz.

It wasn't until just now that he realized...he missed Jazz. He suddenly wanted to see Jazz, hear him, touch him. They'd both been so busy lately. Maybe...

: Jazz? Do you have a moment?:

: Always got a moment for ya, Prowler. What's up?:

: I was wondering if you were free this evening.:

A pause

: Ah'm…Ah'm sorry, Prowler, Ah got trainin' tonight. It'll run late, real late.:

Disappointment flashed through him before Prowl ruthlessly crushed it. Jazz's work, the training, was more important, he knew that.

:Ah'm sorr- :

: No, Jazz, don't be. I understand. Trust me, I have plenty to keep me busy.:

: Ah'll make it up ta ya, Prowler. Ah promise.:

: I'm going to hold you to that.:

: Ah look forward ta ya holdin' me ta that.:

: Take care, Jazz. Don't work too hard.:

: Ya know me!:

Prowl click off the comm link. He was still wrestling with his disappointment but chided himself for thinking Jazz would drop everything for a roll in the berth. To think, to hope, Jazz would do that was...selfish. And Prowl knew better.

Nightbeat watched him a moment, "Everything alright?"

Jerking himself from his private thoughts, Prowl nodded, "Yes. Fine." He gestured to the hologrid, "Let's continue."

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><p>Prowl found himself alone in the commons room. This was one of those rare nights he didn't feel like working. He'd told Jazz he had plenty to keep himself busy and that was true, he just didn't feel like sitting in his office anymore.<p>

He'd gotten a cube of high grade and brought with him a favorite data file to read. But the data file lay on the table, dark, unread, as Prowl toyed with the cube of high grade.

He was...lonely.

It wasn't that Prowl lacked friends outside of Jazz. Just at the moment they were either on shift or recharging from having been on shift all cycle. He should be recharging too but...couldn't bring himself to go back to his quarters just yet. He finally flicked on the data file and stared blankly at the screen, at the words. This was stupid. Stupid and wasteful. Waste of time when he could be recharging, didn't Ratchet always complain he didn't get enough recharge? Waste of energy activating a data file he couldn't concentrate on. And a possible waste of high grade since he hadn't so much as sipped at it yet.

Maybe he should just...

Another cube of high grade was suddenly set on his table, starling him. He looked up. Nightbeat's warm optics and friendly smile looked back at him.

"Must be good reading if you didn't hear me walk up."

Prowl looked down at the data file, "I..Yes, it's -"

Wait.

Looking up at Nightbeat again, Prowl frowned, "Aren't you suppose to be training tonight?"

Nightbeat's smile lessen a little as he shook his head, "No. Well, we were but Jazz ended training about an orn ago. Said he had plans he didn't wanna break."

Prowl stared at Nightbeat in shock for a moment before angry curled inside of him. Jazz had lied to him. Prowl didn't have to stretch his imagination too far to know what those plans might be. He was fairly sure it involved high grade, lots of loud music, and Blaster's quarters. That was what Jazz wanted to do tonight rather than spend time with him. It hurt.

"May I?"

"What?" Prowl forced himself to focus and tone down the bit in his voice. This wasn't Nightbeat's fault. This was Jazz being...Jazz.

Nightbeat gestured to the chair across from him, "May I?"

Prowl nodded and Nightbeat sat down, turning slightly to dig in his subspace. He pulled out a data file, no, holofile and held it out where Prowl could see.

"I heard it rumored you enjoyed this game. Care for a round?"

Prowl opened his mouth to say 'no' but stopped. Where would that get him? It'd leave him to sit by himself, alone, or he'd go back to his quarters...alone. He didn't like either of those options. He looked at the mech sitting, smiling across from him. Jazz might not want to spend time with him tonight, but Nightbeat did. And why should Jazz be the only one to enjoy himself in another's company? By Primus, if Jazz could do it, so could he.

"Yes. I'd like that."

Nightbeat positively beamed, setting the holofile on the table between them, activating it, setting it up. Prowl forced Jazz from his mind as much as he could. He'd agreed to the game and he would focus his attention on it. He wouldn't be rude by dividing his attention.

He deactivated his data file and moved it the vacant chair next to him, "I wasn't aware you were interested in strategy games. I was under the impression Ops mechs preferred games of luck and chance."

Nightbeat leaned his elbows on the table, chin coming to rest on clasped hands as he gave a soft shrug, his smile inviting, "I'm not a natural like yourself but I do enjoy playing at it from time to time." Nightbeat looked over the game before those warm golden optics came to rest on Prowl again, "Your move."

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><p>Two orns later and Prowl could honestly admit...he was having fun. Nightbeat was not only better at the game than Prowl anticipated but possessed a fairly quick and witty sense of humor. Prowl always enjoyed it someone understood his dry wit and could counter it.<p>

One round had lead to two rounds, two to three, and eventually he stopped counting and simply enjoyed the game, the high grade he had, and the company that had found him. He finished off his high grade as the latest game came to an end, Prowl moving his holographic pieces and claiming the win.

"'Nother round?"

Prowl gave a soft smile but shook his head, "No. Thank you. I think it's time I retire for the remainder of the cycle."

He watched Nightbeat's optics dim slightly before a smile suddenly crossed his face, "My apologizes, I lost track of time. Being in good company has way of doing that. Didn't mean to keep you so late."

Prowl shook his head again, "No apologizes needed. I enjoyed this. It was...fun. Thank you."

Nightbeat grinned, taking the holofile in his hands, "I hope we can do this again. Soon."

Prowl nodded, not wanting to admit how it felt to have someone who wanted to be around him, looked forward to seeing him. Someone new. It'd been a long time. And it felt...good. Really good.

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><p>Author's notes<p>

And the moral of the story is: if you don't spend time with the one you love, someone else will. This has brought ruin to many a couple. Now of course with Prowl and Jazz, it's really not just one sided. Prowl's at fault here too as I'm sure there have been times Jazz was wanting some one on one time and Prowl put work before Jazz. These are the cracks in a relationship, that if left untreated, will grow to the size of canyons. And by then, building bridges may not be an option.  
>Reading and reviewing is always loved! :)<p> 


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